“From the moment Pilot Ericson left us outside the Sound we encountered misfortune.  We reached Cape Wrath after a struggle against contrary winds, and off the Butt of Lewis we lay to for two days.  The men swore that the cat down the hold was possessed of some evil demon, and that we would never make any progress on the voyage unless we turned back and took the animal home.  Well, we beat about until we sighted St. Kilda, where wet weather came on, and a gale from the west sprang up.  We made no headway, and the island lay like an impassable rock on our beam for three days.  The sea came rolling on from the west—­great snow-topped mountains of waves—­and the spray and the cutting sleet were hard to stand against.  One night we shipped a heavy sea, which carried away our port bulwarks and stanchions and sent me into the lee scuppers, where I was stunned by a blow on the head.  The same sea smashed the jolly boat.

“I was insensible for a couple of days, and when I crept on deck again I found the other boat had been stove in.  The fore and main topgallant masts were gone.  I was standing on the quarterdeck, when, just at midnight, I was startled by a most unearthly caterwauling, as though all the furies in the infernal regions had broken loose.  I looked in the direction it came from, and, behold! there stood the cat like a frightful apparition.  He seemed four times his original size, and his eyes were like two gleaming fires.  Even now I am not sure if it was the flesh-and-blood Baudrons or his ghost come to explain the mystery of his disappearance, and vent his displeasure at me for having taken him from his comfortable home.  As I looked at the goblin cat my head reeled and I fell on the deck.

“Next morning all was calm and bright; but we were disabled, and it was necessary to put back for repairs.  You may think what you like, mates, but as sure as we’re here, it was nothing but the cat that brought on the gale and gave me my ill luck; the worst calamity of all being the loss of the pilot and his crew.”

“Ay,” said Bailie Duke, “but the cat had nothing to do with the loss of the pilots.  Nobody can be blamed for that but Carver Kinlay.”

“No,” added Oliver Gray, “a greater rascal than Carver never set foot in Orkney, nor a braver man than Ericson.”

“Well,” said Captain Wemyss, “this Kinlay may do as he likes, but I for one will have no business with him.”

“Nor I neither,” said Captains Johnson and Miller at once.

“He’s no proper pilot,” said Gray, “and has no right to run a boat.”

“I’m afraid, gentlemen,” put in Lloyd’s agent with a tone of authority, “you’re a wee bit too late in bringing forward your objections, for I’m informed that Kinlay has already taken out all necessary papers, and is now a duly certified pilot.”

“What!” exclaimed Abernethy.  “I’d sooner employ young Ericson here than Kinlay; I’m sure the lad kens more about the coast.”